What is Love - The Picnic
by Linda4HIM59
Summary: This is a 'missing scene' that many of us wished the writers had included in the episode, 'What is Love'. Michaela was so excited – and quite bold actually – about her plans to be alone with Sully all day for Valentine's Day. This is my version of how they found a way to steal away for that picnic to the waterfall.
1. Chapter 1

**WHAT IS LOVE – THE PICNIC**

_By Linda Ellen_

_October 2013_

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman (but those people aren't using them anyway!)

_A/N – This is a 'missing scene' that many of us wished the writers had included in the episode, 'What is Love'. Michaela was so excited – and quite bold actually – about her plans to be alone with Sully all day for Valentine's Day...but the darn writers took him away to Denver. Grr. But..._ _what if Michaela and Sully had found a way to steal away for that picnic to the waterfall? This little story is my version of how the day 'could have' gone. I tried very hard to 'explain' everything and keep it as close to canon as I could, to just sort of 'shoe horn' it into the episode. Hope you enjoy._

_OOOOOO_

Several weeks before Valentine's Day...

"_What is love_...a question like that deserves a lot of thought..." Michaela mused to Brian amidst the banging sounds of Sully's new hammer.

"Yeah, that's what the Reverend said. Guess I better start observin'. See ya later, Sully," the boy called to his mother's intended. A hand appeared from under the table in a vague wave of farewell.

"Speaking of Valentine's Day..." Michaela crooned as she turned toward her fiancé and leaned across the examination table under which he was working. "I was thinking that this year we could do something special."

Sully gazed up at her before rising slowly, a bit unsure he had heard her correctly. "Somethin'..._special_?"

"Well yes...I thought we could set aside the whole day just for the two of us..." she searched his eyes to gauge his reaction, knowing he would not be expecting such a thing to come from her. "We could take a picnic into the woods and be back in time for Romeo and Juliet."

Sully reached out and with one finger caressed her shawl-covered arm as plans already began bombarding his thoughts. Distracted, he almost missed what she had said. "Romeo and Juliet?"

"Dorothy's putting on a play this year," Michaela explained. Forging on before she lost her nerve, she added, "And afterwards, we could...finish the day with a romantic dinner and moonlit walk..." So out of her normal element was she, she didn't even realize that the fact that they would come back from their private picnic and spend several hours with everyone else during the play would not constitute them being alone the whole day...

Sully gazed at her, surprised at this unexpected suggestion from his normally pragmatic fiancée – surprised, but extremely thrilled. His soft blue gaze met and held her ingenuous stare.

"How does that sound?" Michaela murmured, needing her normally spontaneous, soon-to-be-husband to let her know his thoughts on the subject.

"The whole day? No appointments or schedules? Just...the two of us?" he asked, pointedly. She gazed back at him with a soft snicker, a wry grin coming on her face, as she knew he was gently ribbing her about her penchant for having no 'time' for him or for their courtship. Especially prominent in both of their minds was the time he had tried to get her to forego putting supplies away in favor of taking a walk with him, or indulging in a piece of pie together at Grace's. Michaela had learned from that faux pas and was consciously attempting to give him more of what he wanted – spontaneity.

"I want this Valentine's Day to be special," she answered, her voice dropping to a rich contralto.

He smiled tenderly, enjoying very much this soft side of his no-nonsense future wife. "Why's this year different than the others?" he murmured, brows furrowing a bit as he waited for her answer.

"Well, this year I'm engaged to be married," she returned, as if that were the only reason she needed.

_Good enough for me_ he silently replied as he gave in to his desire to partake of her inviting lips. Leaning slowly forward, one hand slipping up to her collarbone, he allowed his lips to touch hers in a whisper of a kiss. One turned into two and three; all gentle. Then without allowing things to escalate, they grinned at one another happily, foreheads together in pleased camaraderie.

Each one began to daydream of the wonderful time they would have together on their special day...

OOOOOOO

Days passed by in a flurry of activity. Dorothy's production of Romeo and Juliet suffered several hitches, including a plethora of cases of laryngitis. Michaela even had to take over the duties of director when Dorothy herself came down with the malady.

Though increasingly busy, Michaela found herself more excited each day with the thought of their private picnic. So much so, that one night after dinner, as Sully tended the fire and Michaela had seen the children to bed behind the curtain, she couldn't help but gush about their plans.

"I'm really looking forward to Valentine's Day," she admitted with a soft chuckle, glancing over her shoulder to make sure the kids couldn't overhear. "I was thinking we could ride out to that valley you've been telling me about...the one with the waterfall? And we could take a picnic lunch and exchange presents."

Sully had been slightly distracted, as he usually was, by her nearness and beauty, but at this he reined in his attention and with a smile asked, "Presents?" Then with a short chuckle, he leaned closer and murmured, "We didn't give presents last year."

Michaela - immediately misinterpreting that he was adverse to the idea – acquiesced, "Oh, well you don't have to give me anything, it's just..."

"No," he instantly interrupted. "No. It's all right. I _want_ to," he clarified, sealing his words with a soft kiss. Sully indeed wanted to...he had a special present all planned. They both snuck a peak at the curtain and let out suppressed giggles as if they were teenagers on a date.

Days later, Sully wavered only for a short while when faced with the decision to attend a four-day Indian Affairs Conference in Denver, ultimately making the choice to only attend the first two days and come back early. He just couldn't let Michaela down...he had seen through her blatantly obvious ruse of, 'It's just another day,' and later that evening he had come to her with his idea.

He felt bad that both of them were, in a sense, deceiving Brian, especially during the unexpected 'scene' when Sully was leaving town. They had to scramble to think of something to say in front of their 'audience', including her adlib of, "Well Brian, sometimes love means making compromises and sacrifices." When Michaela had once again used the line about it just being another 'day', Sully had looked away in guilt, as Brian's disappointment and accusations weighed on his conscience.

But all would be revealed later and hopefully would provide a good laugh. It hadn't occurred to either of them that Sully's departure had been decidedly void of emotion. No kiss or hug. No, 'I'll miss you', or anything. He just vaulted onto his horse and rode away as she stood watching, each silently anticipating the exciting fulfillment of their plans.

But poor Brian - he was so disgusted with them – at that moment, they didn't even seem like they were still in love! He ripped out the page about them from his notebook...

OOOOOO

Finally, the awaited morning came; but with the dawn, a gentle misting rain.

Michaela awoke slowly, snuggled amidst the sheets and quilt on her bed in the old homestead. She lay there, reveling in the realization that the holiday had arrived...but as her awareness slowly sharpened, she realized the weather had decided to work against the plans she and her love had made.

_It's raining! _She moaned quietly. _But...what about our picnic...our plans...and the play on an outdoor stage..._

She swung her legs out of bed with a frustrated sigh, and pushed back from her face several sleep-disheveled locks of hair. _Oh please, God...make the rain stop... _she prayed in silent fervor.

"It will stop. It _has_ to..." she whispered. Then with typical Dr. Mike fortitude, she drew her gown over her head and set about getting dressed for her rendezvous with her handsome fiancé. "No matter. As long as we're together, we'll make do." Plans and possibilities swirled in her mind as she began the day.

She dressed with care, choosing her red dress with the V neck and white lace edging that Sully particularly liked. He had told her once that the color made her skin seem to glow with an extra sweet warmth. _Ahh, that was the night of the fireworks and Brian playing the part of George Washington chopping down the cherry tree. Sully had taken my hand as we were sitting together on the ground waiting for the festivities to begin..._ She smiled softly at the memory as she held the dress to her chest before quickly slipping into it and fastening the buttons.

Vigorously brushing out her hair, she swept the sides loosely back and fastened them with barrettes, allowing the rest to cascade down her back - again knowing that was Sully's favorite. Not that he had actually _said_ so...she could just tell. When her hair was down, his hands seemed to find their way into it, to gently run his fingers through the strands, as if he couldn't get enough of its texture and softness. She had always taken extra care with her hair, believing it to be her best feature. But since she and Sully had become engaged, she paid special attention to how she washed it, always keeping a bucket of rainwater to rinse it with, as that helped it to be soft.

Hurrying through breakfast with the kids, she barely responded to Brian's questions about what he should write in his essay, or Matthew's good-natured complaints about Ingrid insisting he wear her father's old-fashioned boots in the play, or Colleen going on about how she was sure Becky would be wonderful as Juliet. All Michaela could concentrate on was her and Sully's secret plans.

She hadn't heard from him since he left for Denver three days before, having to leave so early because he was traveling on horseback and needed time to secure his hotel room and check in before the conference started. She wondered if he had made it back to town yet, knowing he would probably have ridden most of the night, despite her protestations against it.

Glancing at her children, she felt a bit guilty that Brian was still under the impression that she and Sully would not be together for the most romantic day of the year. The boy had become so upset when he found out. But...Sully had been insistent that their picnic remain their secret so that there would be no chance they could be interrupted, and she wanted to honor his wishes. She totally understood – how many times had she been called away as she and her fiancé had been talking, or eating together at Grace's, or just attempting to spend a few minutes together? With a small sigh, she remembered the many holidays and special occasions her father had missed...and how her mother had grown so disheartened with her husband's chosen profession... Sully had been disappointed so many times, and Michaela was determined that would _not_ happen this time.

When he had first told her he would be gone through Valentine's Day, she had been devastated, but tried valiantly not to show it. Then, when he had tried to make sure she was all right with it, she had shrugged if off as 'Just another day,' though deep down she was actually quite hurt and disappointed. But oh, how _relieved_ she had been when Sully had 'read between the lines' and come back to her later that night, telling her of his idea.

But then, there was the problem of Brian..._well...it simply can't be helped. I'll let him in on the secret after the fact. I made sure I didn't exactly lie...when he became so upset the day Sully left, I said that love means making compromises and sacrifices, and that is true...and Sully is compromising by only staying two days at the conference... Anyway, I hope when Brian finds out the whole truth, his idea of the holiday of love will remain intact._

"Ma? You alright?" Brian's sweet voice suddenly broke into her thoughts. Michaela blinked and shook her head, a little embarrassed that the children were now staring at her, forks poised above their plates.

"Yes. Yes, of course, Brian," Michaela assured him, hastily taking a few bites of scrambled egg.

"Ya look real pretty, Ma," Colleen ventured.

Michaela glanced down at the dress, absently smoothing the folds of the skirt with one hand and picturing the look in Sully's eyes when she saw him later. "Thank you, Colleen," she whispered with a soft smile.

The kids exchanged looks, each one sure they understood their mother's mood. Sully was out of town...on Valentine's Day. Each of the three planned to give him a piece of their mind when he returned. They hated to see their loving, wonderful Ma in such an emotional state that she was staring straight ahead as if in a trance. Surely she was hurt that he had chosen some dumb Indian conference over _her_.

To try and cheer her up, the three made constant chatter and playful teasing as they worked together cleaning up after breakfast.

When the family finally climbed into the wagon for the trip to town, Michaela's mood seemed much brighter, in spite of the fact it was still sprinkling rain and they had to cover themselves with a tarp. The kids were convinced they had succeeded in their endeavors.

OOOOOOO

Miles away, Sully fought off a shiver as he peered through the misting rain, sending an aggravated glance skyward at the offending wetness. _Rain. Today, of all days. Great, just great. _He swept his dampened hair back from his eyes with one gloved hand and nudged his horse a bit faster.

He'd been riding nearly all night, though he knew Michaela would fuss at him about it, ever the vigilant physician. But the meetings had actually been going well and he had wanted to be in as many of the discussions as he could. His lips moved into a pleased smile as he thought about a senator he had met that seemed genuinely concerned about the plight of the Indians. _I think we might have a shot at some improvements, with him on our side..._ he mused as he traveled along.

His mind eventually gravitated back around to his Heartsong, and he wondered where she was at that moment, chuckling as he thought of how the two of them were sneaking behind everyone's backs just to steal a little bit of 'alone' time together.

Silently, he ticked off items of preparation... he had indulged in a thorough bath, washed his hair, and put on clean clothes - Michaela's favorite of his shirts - at the hotel before heading out. He had stopped at the waterfall, which was about half an hour from Colorado Springs, and readied their picnic area, gathering firewood and arranging rocks in a circle for their camp fire. He had put several items under a cover with the fire set. He had also made arrangements ahead of time for the food...

Starting down a slight incline where the road made a U turn back toward Colorado Springs, he smiled, relieved. _Almost there..._ Glancing to his right, he was surprised to see a wagon sitting off to the side of the road from town – and Loren sitting in it! _What the heck is Loren doin' out here in the early mornin' drizzle?_

As he directed his horse around the bend, he called to his friend and one time father-in-law. Loren returned the greeting, though obviously not in a very good mood. Sully shook his head, his eyes twinkling at Loren's griping about being in love and wishing he weren't. Then as the old man realized Sully wasn't supposed to be back for another two days and asked him about it, Sully couldn't resist teasing, "'Cause I'm a blind fool!" as a play on the shopkeeper's own words. His joy at the prospect of actually running away with his lovely fiancée for uninterrupted hours alone made him feel almost silly with glee. He nudged his horse and continued on. However, as an afterthought, he turned around a minute later and came back.

"Uh...Loren?"

"What," the old man groused.

"Don't let on to anybody that ya saw me, ok? It's...kind of a surprise..."

"Yeah, yeah, go on," Loren grimaced and swiped a hand in the air to brush the younger man on his way. "My lips are sealed."

With a nod of satisfaction, Sully left the old man to sit and think as he waited for the stage. Neither one saw Brian lurking in the bushes and overhearing the secret, nor that the boy had already scooted away.

Fifteen minutes later, Sully slid off his horse at the edge of town, wanting to make sure as few people saw him as possible - especially any of their friends, or the children. The only person he had taken into his confidence was Grace. He slipped into a back door of Robert E.'s huge livery, quickly stabled his horse, continued on through the shadowed interior, and out another door. The town was overrun with people it seemed, all of them jabbering about the play that evening.

_The play. _He had almost forgotten about it, his focus so much on his and Michaela's plans. _She's gonna be in it, plus she's been doin' Dorothy's job...wonder how she's handlin' it all...but then again, if this rain don't let up...they might be doin' it - or maybe a scaled down version - inside the church..._

Once he had been annoyed at her penchant for wanting to 'do it all', but now...he felt a source of pride in her accomplishments – and he definitely admired her determination. He just hoped she would still be willing to slip away with him for the day...he refused to even entertain the thought that something else could have happened – like Michaela coming down with the catarrh!

Spying a little boy he didn't know, he slipped the child a coin and asked him to run over and tell Miss Grace that her friend was waiting. Sully hid in the shadows at the back of the jail, smiling as he watched the child do as he was told. He watched as Grace grinned in conspiracy, fetched a large basket from a hiding place, and surreptitiously headed over to where the boy had directed.

Though the café was officially closed because of the play, Grace had still agreed to help her friends, finding it sweetly romantic. And she hadn't even let Robert E. in on the secret, as she was a bit miffed at him. _Why couldn't he think 'a somethin' like this to do with me? The man's always workin', workin', workin'. But then, _she admitted ruefully, _that makes us two of a kind, I guess._

"Here ya go, Sully," she gushed softly as she handed the heavy container over. "I put in everythin' you asked for...and a little somethin' extra," she informed him, her large liquid ebony eyes twinkling with mirth. "But I gotta say...hope you two don't get rained on."

"Don't worry Grace. Nothin's gonna go wrong. I ain't gonna let it," Sully declared firmly. _It better not._

She flashed him a look, but kept to herself comments about tempting fate. "Well, Docta Mike's in the clinic. Have fun...and good luck..._ya gonna need it_," she deadpanned, before slipping back to what she had been doing. He grinned and stashed the basket in the back of Michaela's wagon, which was parked at the livery.

Then looking both ways, he mused, _Now...to spirit away my fiancée..._as he set out on his mission.

OOOOOOO

Michaela sighed as she took a set of sheets out of a drawer in the end recovery room, trying to make the time pass faster, and wondering where Sully was at that moment. She was feeling more nervous by the second.

Since arriving in town an hour before, she had managed to fend off questions from different people regarding why she was 'dressed up' and not out there directing the rehearsals, and had composed a note and left it on the desk downstairs simply stating that she would be back later that afternoon. Thankfully, Mrs. Farnsworth was a well-read woman who loved Shakespeare and had agreed, no questions asked, to fill in for her until later in the day. _It's funny how none of us know very much about Mrs. Farnsworth...I certainly never knew she had once lived in New York and had been a stage actress..._ Michaela mused, shaking her head in wonder.

Sighing again, she took hold of one edge of the sheet and flipped it smooth, wishing Sully would appear. The waiting was nerve racking!

Her mind steeped in Shakespeare, she murmured in jest, "Oh Sully...Sully...wherefore art thou, my Sully? Deny thy Indian conference and refuse to linger...or...if thou wilt not...sendeth me a telegram, and I'll no longer be in the dark!"

Suddenly, two arms wrapped securely around her from the back, and a very familiar voice murmured in her ear, "Shall I hear more...or shall I speak at this?"

Michaela giggled in relief and turned in Sully's arms.

"Sully! I thought you'd never come," she whispered, her gaze lovingly taking in his sparkling eyes, still damp hair, and close-cropped beard. Her hands closed around his buckskinned covered arms.

He grinned and leaned in for a soft kiss, his eyes lighting up in appreciation as he took in her appearance. _She wore my favorite dress..._ "Had ta sneak past a lot of people...and it took me awhile to find a door that wasn't locked," he snickered, thoroughly enjoying their private 'game'. "Loren saw me, but I made him swear he wouldn't tell."

"Loren? Oh no..." Michaela murmured, her lips touching his again. "It might as well be published in the _Gazette_," she moaned softly, only half kidding.

"Nah," he whispered, kissing her again. "He's too busy tryin' ta get his surprise for Dorothy inta town without her knowin'."

Michaela pulled back, brows furrowed. "Surprise?"

"Yep. He didn't tell me what. But I ran into him, sittin' out on the Denver Road waitin' for the stage."

"I wonder what it could be..." Michaela mused. Then spying the clock on the chest of drawers showing half past ten and realizing the day was getting away, she pulled back and reached for her winter shawl. "We must hurry!"

Nodding in agreement, Sully took her hand and together they rushed down the hallway to make their escape.

OOOOOOO

"How far is it to the waterfall?" Michaela asked, snuggling against Sully's side on the wagon seat.

"Not too much farther." Then glancing to the side at her, he asked, "You comfortable? Not too cold?"

She smiled and shook her head. "No, I'm fine. I'm so thankful the weather cleared up – and that it is unseasonably warm for February."

"Yeah, me too. And now that you mention it...think I need ta shed this," he added, handing her the reins while he removed his long leather jacket and tossed it into the back of the wagon.

Smiling at his choice of attire – her favorite of his shirts, the blue striped one - she hugged his arm and rested her cheek against his shoulder, releasing a contented sigh. "Thank you, Sully."

"You're welcome...for what?" he grinned, turning his head and meeting her eyes.

"For going to all of this trouble...coming back early from the conference...the picnic basket – truly, I could have brought the food..." she murmured, but he shook his head.

"Nah, no trouble. You know I'd do anythin' for ya...and by the way, Grace said, 'Have fun and good luck.'"

Michaela laughed out loud, a carefree, relaxed laugh that made Sully feel warm clear down to his toes. It wasn't often that she had the opportunity to feel so relaxed and spontaneous, and he was determined to make the most of the day. He was thrilled that they had been able to actually get away unnoticed, managing to climb quickly up into the wagon and slipping out of town past the old shack across the road from where the railroad had cleared ground for the new train depot. Then he had circled around and made the connection to the road to Denver.

Shifting the reins to his left hand, Sully circled Michaela's back with his right arm and settled her against his side.

"By the way...thank _you_," he offered, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"For what?" she asked, tilting her head enough to see his face.

"For havin' the idea for our private picnic. It meant a lot ta me that you thought of it..."

She grinned and dropped her head, catching her lip between her teeth. "I must have sounded very forward...I don't know what got into me..."

"Well, whatever it is...I like it," he whispered.

She leaned her head back again and met his eyes, tingles rushing to her core at the expression in his. She swallowed a trifle nervously and nodded, speechless.

They settled into a comfortable, cozy ride, with Sully regaling all that had occurred during the meetings in Denver.

OOOOO

On to chapter 2 - The Picnic!


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

Reaching their destination thirty minutes later, Sully pulled the wagon to a stop, jumped down, and turned to reach up for his love. She scooted over, but paused for a moment, taking in the picturesque scene. It truly was a beautiful place, just as Sully had said. The waterfall was small, falling only about ten feet into a tiny pool nestled into the side of a hill. All around them, various species of trees formed somewhat of a private screen from the rest of the landscape.

"Oh Sully...it's beautiful. How did you find it?"

He grinned at her reaction. "I was out huntin' one day and came across it. Was a hot summer day and a dip in that pool in my birthday suit really felt good," he added, his eyes sparkling as he watched her face turn a bit pink at the thought.

"Indeed," she managed, switching her eyes to his and then reaching to rest her hands on his shoulders as he lifted her down. He set her lightly on the ground and they stared into one another's eyes for a moment.

"Perhaps we will come back here one day...after we're married," she murmured, casting him the look that was her unique mixture of innocence and sensuality.

His eyes reacted as they always did when she 'flirted' with him, his hands lingering on her tiny waist. Images of being alone, with his _wife_, all night at the waterfall instantly assailed his mind. _Whoa boy..._he cautioned himself as he pulled back on his mental reins, taking a step back and determinedly turning toward their transportation.

"Here," he murmured, handing her a thick patchwork quilt from the back of the wagon. He grasped the picnic basket and together they walked several yards to the spot where he had set up the campfire circle earlier that morning. Curious, Michaela watched as Sully set the basket down, reached to uncover the fire circle, and then hunkered down to light the pre-set fire. In moments it was blazing warmly.

Sully reached to grasp one edge of the quilt and together they spread it out, dropping down on it as he dragged the basket over and opened the lid.

Grinning happily, he looked up at her. "Grace told me she put in somethin' extra...she made us a whole apple pie. Your favorite."

"My goodness!" Michaela gasped as she peeked into the basket at the array of food packages. "How will we ever eat all of this?"

"Don't know," he shrugged, adding playfully, "Maybe she sent extra just in case we got stranded or somethin'..." It was hard for him not to grin at her shocked expression.

Noticing her glancing at the items that had been covered by the hide cloth – a coffee pot and his red and black poncho, he murmured, "Some stuff I thought we might need if it got colder."

She raised one eyebrow, impressed. "It seems you've thought of everything, Mr. Sully."

"I aim ta please," he flashed her his special smile as he hopped up and strolled the short distance to the waterfall to fill the pot. As he turned to walk back, he grinned widely at catching Michaela watching him. She quickly averted her eyes and continued removing items from the basket.

"Coffee does sound good, especially when we eat the pie."

"Mmm hmm," he returned as he set the pot onto boil and settled back down beside her.

"Grace provided quite a feast. Fried chicken, potato salad, pickles...a jar of her famous cider. I hoped you thanked her."

"I did. But you can thank her again when we get back," he winked, and then reached for her hand to stop her busyness.

At her questioning look, he murmured, "Before we eat...I thought we'd give each other our presents..."

Her eyes lit up at this – he hadn't forgotten!

"All right. I need to get my purse..." she began, moving to rise, but he reached out and stopped her. "I'll get it."

He rose and retrieved it from under the wagon's seat, handing it to her as he dropped back down beside her on the quilt.

"Thank you," she murmured, opening it and removing a small item, wrapped in paper. He watched, but made no move to produce a 'gift' for her.

She didn't notice, as she was intent on presenting him with her offering.

"I hope you like it...I made it myself."

He grinned and took the package, unwrapping it to find a beautiful Indian necklace adorned with black, yellow, red, and blue beads.

"Michaela...you made this?" he breathed as he drew it out of the wrapper and examined the perfect craftsmanship.

"Yes...well, with a little help from Cloud Dancing and Snowbird... It's a 'relationship' necklace," she grinned, watching his awestruck expression. "And I chose the colors carefully."

"The colors?" he looked up at her, a question in his eyes.

"Yes...Snowbird told me the deeper meanings of the colored beads that they use..."

"Hmm...she never told me...wonder why?" he mused with a slight shrug, shifting his gaze back to the necklace.

Reaching forward, Michaela allowed her fingers to touch the beads, pointing to each color as she explained, "I chose black for the base color – as black stands for 'hearing'...hearing one another's point of view." He smiled and nodded. "The next color is yellow...yellow stands for 'love'...overcoming challenges through unconditional love for one another. Then red, for 'faith' in one another, and finally blue, for 'intuition' and learning how to understand one another."

He smiled again, his eyes gleaming with joy as he leaned close and kissed her sweetly. "Thank you, Michaela. Put it on me?" he requested softly, and she grinned, slipping it over his head and under his hair, adjusting it with his other necklaces. For just a second, they both thought about how he had been void of one since he had given it to Catherine, but wisely both chose to let that fact pass by.

Sitting back, Michaela realized that Sully had made no move to produce a present for _her_. She glanced at him expectantly, remembering that night they sat before the fireplace and he had told her he wanted to exchange gifts.

He caught the look and smiled, rather shyly. Knowing what she was wondering, he reached inside his jacket pocket, hesitated, then reached into the other to pull out a folded piece of paper.

"I wanna give you your present. But first...I..uh...I wrote ya somethin'," he stumbled, placing the paper in her hands. "But I been wonderin' if I should even give it to ya...I tried ta write ya a Valentine poem."

Michaela's mouth dropped open in pleased surprise, and then with a grin, she opened the page and read aloud:

_**My Michaela**_

_Roses are red, wild cornflowers are blue,_

_Honey tastes sweet, but not as sweet as you._

_I love your lips, your eyes, your hair,_

_I love how you stand up for what's right and fair._

_I ain't much with words, but one thing is true,_

_I'd go anywhere, do anything, work hard or play the fool - just for you._

_I love you so much, Michaela Quinn - my heart just goes thud,_

_You've never left my mind since that day you fell in the mud._

_On Valentine's Day, let's sneak away, and let it be just us two,_

_Cause I'll love you all my days, and I can't wait to say, "I do," with you._

_All my Love,_

_Sully_

Michaela lowered the paper, eyes brimming with tears. "Oh Sully," she whispered, touched beyond words...to think that he would do something like that – lay his deepest feelings at her feet.

He smirked and lowered his gaze with a small shrug. "I know it sounds dumb. I wish I could say what's in my heart, and make it sound jus' right, like that Shakespeare fella...or the way Walt W..." he stopped short, his lips forming a kiss against her fingers as she quickly placed them against his mouth to hush him.

"Don't," she whispered, softly shaking her head. "It's perfect, and I love it, every word, just the way you wrote it. Because," she added, guiding his head back when he tried to look away, "Because, it was written from your heart...the heart I fell in love with so long ago..."

She paused, allowing him to see the overwhelming emotion welling inside her. He smiled then and relaxed, pleased with her reception of his attempt at poetic romance.

"Yeah? Tell me...when did you fall for me?"

She smiled softly as he leaned forward and brushed her lips with his, then tilted his head back to stare down at her, his lips set in an indulgent smile.

"I...I was attracted to you right from the start...though I wasn't sure what to make of you," she admitted wryly.

"Oh?" he snorted softly. "Why's that?"

Grinning at the memory, she quipped, "The way you hurled your tomahawk to split that sign in the mercantile, startling me so, I nearly jumped out of my skin...then that look you gave me as we stood face to face...then the way you manhandled me when you helped me up on Bear's back..."

"Manhandled!" he blustered, lovingly protesting, "I made sure I did that gentle like..."

She went on as if he hadn't interrupted, "The way you just walked - leading the horse, but not saying one single word – all the way out to the homestead...the way you merely turned and gazed down at me as I lay in the dirt when I fell off Bear...the way you walked off and left me standing on the porch - without even telling me your name..."

"Alright..." he conceded with a small nod and an embarrassed grin, stopping her recital of his early attempts to keep her at arm's length. He'd constantly fought against the fact that she penetrated the armor he had built around his heart with the first words he heard her say – which happened to be in defense of not only Black Kettle, but Wolf, too.

"But you haven't answered my question," he persisted.

She smiled mischievously, adoring the way the light filtering through the trees made the blue of his eyes take on a mysterious hue. "I think I knew I was falling in love with you...the moment you placed _that_ around my shoulders in the teepee the night Brian ran away," she admitted, indicating the red and black poncho near the fire. "When...when your fingers touched me, even through the material... it was as if I felt sparks. Sparks that rushed straight through every fiber of my being...and settled in my heart – where they continued to sizzle," she concluded, her voice dropping to a mere whisper.

"Sizzle, huh?" he murmured, mesmerized with what the mottled light was doing to her earth-toned eyes. He smiled softly, silently acknowledging that he, too, had felt those sparks, and adoring the eloquent way she had worded the phenomenon.

"Mmm hmm," she nodded, his nearness, as always, rendering her slightly lightheaded, to the point she could not help but speak her heart. "The sparks between us have never stopped sizzling...the only variation is the intensity of the spark...depending on how close you are to me...or how far away," she murmured shyly.

He slowly leaned in, his eyes never releasing their hold on hers, until his lips were but a mere breath from hers.

"They sizzlin' now?" he asked, his voice so low she felt it reverberating deep within her belly.

She pressed her lips together, feeling like a schoolgirl with her first puppy love. "Indeed. I'm surprised you can't hear the cacophony they are making."

He snickered softly, thoroughly enjoying their game. "I wondered what all that racket was..."

"Just my heart...singing of its love for you."

He smiled, his dimples deepening as a memory surfaced.

"What?" she asked softly, unable to resist lifting a hand and allowing her fingers to caress one indentation, nearly hidden within the scruff on his cheeks and jaw.

"That reminded me 'a somethin'..."

She raised an eyebrow, unwilling to allow him to keep secrets when she had just bared her soul to him.

His eyes wandered over her face, the wisps of her hair, her long eyelashes sparkling in the muted light...but then in his mind's eye...for a moment he saw scratches on her cheeks...fear and exhaustion in her eyes...and he experienced again the absolute terror he had felt when he believed he had lost her.

She saw the oh-so subtle change in his expression – only recognizable because she was so in tune with his emotions. "Sully?" she whisperingly questioned.

He swallowed, pushing the disturbing images toward the farthest corner of his mind. The momentary vision of her scraped face vanished, and her perfect, unblemished face returned into his focus. He knew, however, she wouldn't let up until he confessed...

He leaned back a bit, reaching for her hand and bringing it up to his lips for a reverent kiss, not realizing he was replicating what he had done the morning after her rescue. It was an action born from the deepest recesses of his heart...total relief and sincere thankfulness.

His eyes shut, he quietly began, "When...when the dog soldiers had ya, I kept searchin' for ya...but I lost the trail. Then when I found the camp they had you in the night before, you were gone and I couldn't find any tracks at all." She listened quietly, watching in wonder the various emotions come and go across his handsome face as the story unfolded. This was something he had never shared before. She had often wondered, but had never had the opportunity or the courage to ask. "There was a couple dozen Cheyenne there, all of 'em too scared 'a the dog soldiers to help me," he continued softly. "So scared, they were sittin' froze, like statues. One Eye prob'ly threatened a fate worse than death if they told." He paused, remembering the frustration of those moments. "I begged 'em, over and over, to tell me if you'd been there and if you were alright. Then finally...I told 'em what ya meant to me..."

His eyes opened and searched hers, shifting back and forth between them as he whispered, "That you're my hëna xené...my heart-song." Her breath caught at his admission as he held her gaze. 'Heart-song'...the word reverberated within her, filling her with warmth and wonder. "One old woman, I think she'd felt sorry for ya...she motioned me over and pointed the direction they'd taken ya. Then before I could bolt, she pressed Walks on Clouds' necklace in my hands, and the look in her eyes told me to be careful – there wasn't nothin' One Eye wouldn't do to get what he wanted...and he wanted _you_."

Michaela swallowed softly, knowing the old woman had been right. The Indian called One Eye had been feared by all, and Michaela knew she was only alive – and unscathed – because of the fearless pursuit of the incredible man before her. Indeed...Walks on Clouds had given his life to save her – but she had recklessly gotten herself recaptured, wasting his sacrifice. That was a memory that still filled her heart with bitter remorse.

Sully went on, his eyes narrowing against the memories. "I took off runnin' after ya, so scared I'd come too late...and when I had to hide and watch 'em draggin' ya, barefoot across the rocks...it took everythin' in me not ta come screamin' up over the hill to rescue ya. But I knew they'd just shoot me dead and then you'd be left with no one to help ya. I couldn't leave ya all alone...so I followed...and waited for my chance..."

"And when night came...you called to me with your dove song..." she supplied, remembering how she had lost all hope of being rescued, wishing fervently that she could see Sully again...wishing they hadn't wasted so much time being apart after the misunderstanding about Catherine...thinking of all the things she wanted to say to him, do with him...longing for him...and then wondering if the dove call was just a figment of her desires and imagination. She remembered looking over in the direction of the sound as her eyes desperately searched, but couldn't see even a glimpse of him in the thick darkness. But somehow...she could _feel_ his presence and _knew_ he was trying to tell her to think of a way to put some distance between her and the braves around the fire.

"Yeah," he murmured in answer to her statement. "I was so glad ya understood what to do."

She nodded, remembering how she had racked her brain for an idea, then suddenly recalling a word Snowbird had recently taught her. So she had delicately informed her captors that she needed to relieve herself – to "Óhnee mâéhl." She hadn't counted, though, on One Eye being the one to escort her down to the river. A moment of panic set in as she desperately hoped she'd been right and that Sully was near. If he had not been...her request would have given the leader of the dog soldiers the perfect opportunity to force himself upon his determinedly unwilling captive.

Then, her rescuer had come flying out of the darkness. The ensuing fight between Sully and the fierce Indian could have gone either way, and she'd been so very thankful that Sully had prevailed.

"We make a good team, you and me," Sully continued, musing, "Like when we searched for Brian together...and Colleen when she got trapped in that mine shaft...comin' up with a plan of freein' Cloud Dancin' from Custer's grip...findin' the source of the mercury in the water...rescuin' Matthew in the mine..." he recalled with twinkling eyes.

"And when we managed to free you from prison," she offered. "And found the paper with your orders signed by that corrupt major...and when we completed our flip together on the trapeze...and when we worked together against the buffalo soldiers and convinced Sergeant Carver to change his mind about the Indians...or the time we managed to elude the dog soldiers and help rescue Kid Cole and sister Ruth..."

"Yeah...it's like nothin' I've ever experienced before...the way we sometimes just know what each other is thinkin'..." he murmured, one hand gently caressing her soft cheek.

She nuzzled his warm palm, totally content, a bit like a cat. "Yes, I've marveled about that myself...and I wonder what being married will do to enhance our connection..." she mused, then immediately blushed when she realized what she had said.

Sully chuckled, gamely resisting the urge to tease her about their future 'connections'.

With a grin, he reached for a cloth napkin and a chicken leg. "I think we better start eatin'. The day's gettin' away."

"Indeed," she agreed as she spooned out a helping of potato salad onto a tin plate. "Care for one of these?" she asked, offering him a pickle. He glanced at the item she held in her fingers, then into her eyes, and managed to swallow a risqué comment before it could pass his lips. She must have seen it in his eyes, however, and looked away, blushing.

For the next ten minutes, they sat together enjoying Grace's delicious fare in complete happiness at just being together, miles from any chance at interruption.

"I wish I could cook like Grace," Michaela murmured, savoring a bite of perfectly cooked chicken.

Sully swallowed a healthy bite of potato salad and shrugged. "Don't matter. You do lots of things good," he mumbled. "You're a great doctor...the best Ma the kids could have 'sides Charlotte...you're a good friend...and a carin' daughter and sister. 'Sides," he added with a shrug, "Cookin' is somethin' that can be learned, just takes time and practice."

She snickered softly, swallowing a bite. "I've _been_ practicing, but it has helped very little."

"Well, it's a good thing we got Grace's then, huh?" he teased as he lay aside a piece of chicken and licked his fingers, emitting his special giggle when she gave him a tiny playful shove.

Suddenly, they both began to feel the first drops of a renewal of the rain softly landing on their faces.

"Oh no..." Michaela murmured, her eyes locking with that of her fiancé.

"It'll stop," he assured her, though one glance upward belied any confidence in that statement. While they had been talking and eating, a solid bank of clouds had quickly and silently moved in overhead, unnoticed, and was even then threatening to let loose a torrent of rain.

"Oh...our picnic!" Michaela moaned, staring regretfully at the blanket as visions of the ruined food at the town's Thanksgiving dinner came to mind.

Thinking quickly, Sully glanced around for options. One would be to hunker down under the wagon and hope for the best...another would be to load up and try to outrun the downpour...but neither of those appealed to him. There was no time to construct a lean-to without allowing the food to get wet...

Then his eyes landed on a rather large evergreen tree with tightly fitting branches. It was at least forty feet tall, and perhaps twenty feet wide at the base; the lowest branches touched the ground, forming a dark green 'skirt'. He had an idea.

"Get everything together," he instructed even as he quickly rose, grabbed his gloves from his jacket in the back of the wagon, and headed toward the tree, tomahawk already out of its holder.

"What are you doing?" she squealed as more raindrops fell.

"Just...trust me," he called over his shoulder as he reached the tree and began chopping out selected branches from its interior, wedging them horizontally at his eye level to deflect water.

With a frustrated huff, Michaela pulled her winter shawl up over her head and began gathering the food and shielding it from the weather.

A minute later, Sully glanced over his shoulder, "Chaela," he motioned with his head, "Bring it under here."

"Where?" she called back, but as he moved a bit, she could see that he was carving out a space near the trunk of the tree.

Bringing the basket and blanket over, she ducked inside as he ran back and gathered up the remaining items, raindrops falling faster by the minute. Dashing back, he slipped inside the enclosure as Michaela, on her knees, worked to spread out their quilt on what amounted to a bed of dried pine needles.

"We'll be snug as a bug in a rug," Sully joked as he propped several of the cut branches in the opening to keep out any stray gusts. Then he threaded his leather jacket into the branches four feet above their heads, where they would be sitting, to catch any stray drops that might work their way inside.

Just then, the rain began to come down in earnest outside of their protected sanctuary. But inside of their impromptu hideaway, using nature's own canopy, they were indeed, snug and dry.

Sully knelt down and took hold of one end of the quilt, both of them softly chuckling when it seemed to fight against spreading out smoothly.

"Now how 'bout a piece 'a that pie...I'd hate for any of Grace's good cookin' ta go to waste," Sully murmured as he settled down on the blanket, his back against the trunk of the tree.

"An excellent idea," Michaela murmured, and cut two slices of the delectable dessert, placed them in the tin plates, and handed him one. Sully had rescued the coffee pot from the fire, and she poured two cups of the steaming brew. She was glad of the extra warmth, as the temperature had begun to drop with the onset of rain.

She settled down near him in the shadowy, fragrant interior, and breathed in the pleasant aroma of pine and the fragrant scent of sap from the severed branches. Hearing the sound of the rain outside, she glanced upward, amazed that not even one drop of water seemed to be filtering down to them. _Snug, indeed. _She turned her head and gazed at her companion, a sweet, proud smile gracing her face. She always felt so safe and cared for when she was with him.

Glancing up from taking a large bite of pie, he caught her gaze. He quickly chewed and swallowed, and his tongue slipped out to lick apple residue from the corner of his mouth.

"What?" he murmured as he reached for his coffee, though finding her just gazing at him, captivated, her eyes warm and loving - in much the same way that he often stared, enraptured, at her - always warmed him from head to foot.

She shook her head gently. "Oh, nothing...I was just thinking about...what a good husband and provider you'll be," she admitted with a loving smile. With a hand, she gestured to their enclosure, "How quickly you fashioned this quite adequate shelter for the two of us...much like you did that rainy night after I broke my wrist." His answering grin sent tingles clear to her fingertips.

He dipped his head a bit. "Thank you."

She took a sip of her coffee as a thought occurred, and she frowned a bit. "The rain... I hope it stops in time for us to be able to prepare for the play...Dorothy has put in so much work – everyone has..."

"Includin' you," he murmured thoughtfully as he forked another bite of pie. He watched as she sipped her coffee, then carefully placed her cup out of harm's way and settled more comfortably on the quilt, demurely arranging her skirt around her legs and reaching for her plate. "Ya know...you amaze me with all of the things you're good at...even actin' in and directin' a play..."

"Me?" Michaela laughed, taking a delicate bite of pie. "What about you? The only thing I've ever been good at is being a doctor. Look at all of the things at which _you_ excel – and you learn so quickly. You're so confident in everything you do..."

He swallowed the bite of pie, snickering, "Confident? Aw Michaela, if you only knew."

With an intrigued grin, she settled even closer, her eyes trained on his expression. "Knew what?"

He glanced at her as he wiped pie crumbs from his mouth, wondering if he should admit out loud his failings and uncertainties. The last thing he wanted was to cause her to think less of him. He'd grown accustomed to being her 'hero'.

However, helpless against the pleading look in her eyes and unable to deny her anything, he answered, "I wasn't so confident in learnin' how to dance, remember? Or how to act around all those Boston types at your Ma's birthday party."

"But, you _did_ it, that's the point. You put your fears or shyness aside and... as you eloquently put it, learned to 'Do as the Romans do'," she softly chuckled, remembering that moment in her mother's dining room. "And it wasn't long before your confidence grew – why, in Washington, you danced with senators' wives at the White House!" She paused as he pressed his lips together and shrugged bashfully, though inwardly glowing at her praise. "And by the way, in my opinion you comported yourself quite nicely in every situation in Boston." Meeting his eyes seriously, she added, "I've never, ever, been ashamed to be escorted by you. I hope you know that."

"Yeah right, what about..." he started to argue, but she interrupted, "When you forced your way into the dining room of Mother's house?" she shook her head. "Only for a moment...but that was because I was so surprised to see you there. I had no idea you were even on your _way_ to Boston. But if you recall, once I got over the shock, I defended you," she added, blessing him with her special half grin.

"Yeah, ya did..." he replied softly, remembering the warmth her words had made him feel. They had helped to counter the rather chilly reception from the others of her family. "But...ya acted so funny up there in my room later...when I tried ta tell ya why I came, what I was feelin'," he murmured.

She felt her pulse speed up a bit as she remembered those moments in his room, and the totally unexpected intensifying of the attraction between them. Being away from Colorado Springs...and him...for so long, she had almost forgotten his effect on her.

"Don't you know why?" she whispered. "The way you were gazing at me...being alone with you...the attraction I felt for you hit me again, so strongly..." she paused and gave a tiny shrug of her shoulders. "It frightened me..."

His heart rate sped up at her revelation, and his eyes in the shadowy interior suddenly began to take on a warm hue as he stared into hers.

"I...I'd come all the way to Boston to finally tell ya what I felt about ya..." he murmured. "How you kept me tied up in knots...how I'd realized I...couldn't live without ya..."

She drew in a breath and held it, nearly spellbound at his divulgence. His disclosure, and his close proximity, caused her pulse to begin to beat erratically. She could almost hear his thoughts...

The intimacy of the moment was not lost on either of them, as each one contemplated the fact that it was only a scant three months before they would wed. Become Man and wife. Both pictured the subsequent events following that momentous occasion... and each knew they were now on shaky ground.

Sully put aside his plate with the remainder of his piece of pie, and reached out, gently relieving Michaela of her own plate.

She swallowed, becoming increasingly unsure. They had never been alone – _like this_ – since they had declared their love, and more importantly, become _engaged_. She wondered what he would do...what he expected...how she should react...

Finishing his task, his eyes returned to hers and he reached out one hand to gently caress her cheek. She knew if it weren't for the sound of the rain outside their impromptu shelter, he would probably be able to hear her heart pounding. She didn't realize – his was pounding just as forcefully.

Inexorably drawn to one another, they leaned close, allowing their eyes to softly close as their lips gently met. The effect was instant and total intoxication, as if they had never kissed before. Each gloried in the delicious taste of coffee and apple pie filling, and the heady scent of one another amongst the other fragrant aromas infusing the air.

"I love you so much," he whispered, his lips suddenly opening to surround hers and swallow her response. With a shuddering sigh, she surrendered to him, allowing him to have his way. He quickly and easily maneuvered her over onto his lap, settling her into the curve of his embrace as he deepened the kiss even more. Never had they shared such intimate 'sparking' – not even in the sweat lodge when he proposed. For this time, he allowed his desires to take over, his hands caressing her cheek and neck, and roaming further down her anatomy as she curled on his lap. Her hands wound themselves in his hair and caressed his cheeks, glorying in the rough feel of his whiskers, and the invigorating sensation of his tongue dancing with hers.

Michaela was in uncharted territory, completely relying on his expertise. She was drowning in sensations, and for once, her inhibitions seemed to fall flat like a house of cards. Oh how she wished they were already married!

Sully was totally caught up in the feelings she engendered within him, all of his carefully wrought restraint having deserted him just when he needed it most. He'd never experienced this passionate side of his beloved before – not even that exhilarating moment when they had kissed in the sweat lodge. As ardent as that had been, when he had tried to lay her back, she had balked and immediately stopped him. Then she had insisted that since his megrim was gone, they needed to pack up and get back, that the children would be worried. Since then, he had not had the opportunity to 'try'.

Now, she was totally surrendering and he was helpless to invoke caution. Her mouth tasted like pure ambrosia, her scent drew him like a male mountain lion to his mate. Every instinct urged him to pursue – and pounce.

With a growl, he kissed her harder, and she returned the force, her own answering groan just as passionate. Breathless, all sense of right and wrong seemed to disappear. They had both reached that illusive point of 'no return' when desire totally usurped propriety.

Sully shifted and allowed them to fall sideways, barely catching Michaela's head as she landed on her back on the quilt. Mindlessly, he moved to cover her body with his, pushing intimately into her softness, feeling the beguiling headiness of her breasts pressed against him. She reveled in the sensuous weight of his body bearing down upon her; her mind, heart, and consciousness filled with the essence of _him_ as they kissed with full abandon.

He broke the kiss and buried his head against her neck, his lips remaining open in sheer need, as he tasted the smooth skin there. Slowly, sensually, he worked his way down into the V of her dress. She gasped as his chin's stubble scratched highly sensitized skin, sensations rocketing throughout her body like fireworks. Her hands buried themselves in the soft waves of his hair. From somewhere far, far away, sanity whispered...

"Sully," she gulped, totally overcome.

He moaned in desperation. "God, I want you!" he gasped as his hands roamed daringly down her body and gripped her hips.

Each one expected the other to stop the progression. Time seemed suspended...

Then suddenly, Providence mercifully intervened - in the form of a drop of cold water.

A raindrop had found its way down through all of the branches, choosing that moment to land in the center of Michaela's forehead. She gasped at the sheer unexpected shock of the ice cold water. A second later, a drop landed on the back of Sully's neck, uncovered by Michaela's grasping hands as she had swept his hair aside. The effect was the same for him.

Blinking and breathless, he pulled back and tilted his head up to see her face. Her lips were kiss swollen, her eyes glazed with passion, but round with surprise, realization, and...shame_._

_My God...what are we doing?_

The pendulum of Michaela's emotions seesawed wildly, from desperate desire to crushing remorse. What had possessed her...where had her morals fled to just when she needed them most?

With a stab of guilt, Sully realized he had come dangerously close to...but surely she would have stopped him...surely he would have come to his senses... Truly, that had not been in his plans – he had _not_ brought her out into the woods with a plan to seduce her...to get her to relax her standards. _It's just that she's so dang...desirable..._

He immediately pressed his hands on the ground on either side of her and pushed up, rising to his knees...between her legs. Mercifully, they were still covered by the voluminous folds of her dress. He scrambled to the side, reaching for her hands to help her sit up.

"Michaela, I..." "Oh Sully..." They each began, only to drop their heads in embarrassment. Both were wondering what the other must be thinking of them...

"I...I'm sorry...I let things go too far..." Sully began, raking a hand back through his tousled hair.

Michaela shook her head, retaining her hold on his other hand. "No...you're not to blame...I didn't even try to stop...you...us..." she paused, words escaping her.

Gazing into her eyes, Sully could see uncertainty, and he softly reassured her, "Ya would have..."

Suddenly awkward with one another, they both began to chuckle and shake their heads in amazement as their emotions cycled around. "Thank God for that drop of rain!" Sully murmured, his expression sheepish.

"You felt one, too?" Michaela queried, eyes wide. Someone was watching out for them...

"Yep. And you know what I'm thinkin'?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. "I think we better be extra careful and not be alone together between now and the weddin'. Specially out at the new house...we might end up on the floor..." he quipped, unknowingly prophetic.

"You don't think we've learned our lesson?" Michaela cocked an eyebrow at him.

Sully grinned at her unconsciously flirtatious expression, rolling his eyes helplessly. "I think I've learned I ain't got much control left," he admitted with a laugh. Then realizing it had stopped raining, he added, "C'mon, let's get packed up and get back ta town. You got a play to direct."

With another chuckle, they set about gathering their things and loading the wagon. Sully folded the quilt and placed it on the wet seat, and they spent the ride huddled against one another under his red and black poncho...talking about many things...and nothing...each one knowing they would treasure their picnic as another of their 'adventures in the woods'.

**EPILOGUE**

Once they finally made it back after their excursion, the two took the time to explain their uncharacteristic actions to Brian. They were relieved that the boy quickly forgave them of their duplicity, as he was merely happy that they had, indeed, spent the day together as originally planned. Then, Michaela rushed to change into her dark, heavy medieval costume.

Later that evening, after Jake disappeared behind the curtain following his opening monologue, Michaela wandered out to watch the progress of the play. Smiling, she thought about the moment when Dorothy had come to her, interrupting the craziness of last minute preparations, and let her know she wanted to resume her duties. With everything else that had happened that busy day, Michaela was quite thankful that she had been relieved of the duty to direct.

Gazing at the beautiful red brocade curtains – Loren's surprise for Dorothy, Michaela smiled softly. That was some surprise! _I wonder where he found them...and it wouldn't surprise me to know he got them at a bargain price...knowing Loren, _she chuckled silently, knowing the shopkeeper's penny-pinching ways.

Listening to the opening lines of the play, she hoped everyone's nerves would calm, that all would go well, and that Hank wouldn't attempt to rewrite Shakespeare – and she was very glad no more cases of laryngitis had developed.

Deep in thought, she didn't realize that not far away, her favorite pair of blue eyes watched her lovingly...

Since the moment they had returned from their picnic, he had been chiding himself for letting one very important thing slip his mind, and he had tried several times to get her alone again long enough to complete a very important task...but no luck. _However..._he was determined that the day would not end without the fulfillment of his original intentions.

Having taken a seat at the far left back corner to watch the play...well, more precisely, to watch the woman he loved with every cell in his body, he had literally gasped when he saw her step out from behind the curtain and stroll along beside the audience. He hadn't even hoped to get a glimpse of her, except onstage, until the play was over.

His eyes narrowed as he strove to remember how soon her first scene would come up. _Dang it! Shoulda paid more attention! _He berated himself_._ Leaning forward on his chair, he put his hand against one pocket of his jacket, debating..._should I do this now? Or should I take a chance and wait...what if somethin' happens and I don't get another chance?_

Then before he could talk himself out of it, he reached inside the pocket and removed a very precious item - and was up and walking. Stalking. Staring at her, willing her not to move, hoping she wouldn't flit away at the last second before he could reach her.

Closer...closer...almost...

Suddenly, Michaela felt a hand on her shoulder and turned.

"Sully!" she gasped delightedly.

Her fiancé, his expression playful, said not a word, but grasped her left hand and slid an engagement ring onto her finger. It was his real present for Valentine's Day, only they had gotten too caught up and he'd completely forgotten to give it to her on the picnic.

His words, "Bought it a few months back...been waitin' for Valentine's Day to give it to ya...make it special," warmed Michaela's heart more than he even realized.

Jubilant, she grasped his head in her hands and kissed him, then went happily into his arms for a warm hug. Turning her head, she whispered into his ear, "Our Valentine's Day _has been_ special, Sully...more so than I even imagined it would be." Hugging him tighter, she kissed his cheek as he closed his arms around her tighter, his eyes shut. "The day, the picnic, the poem you wrote me...and everything...will remain a precious memory." Pulling back, she cradled her left hand with her right, adding with a sparkling smile, "And now with my beautiful engagement ring...I couldn't ask for a more perfect day."

Smiling lovingly, his hand rose to gently grasp his necklace. It meant the world to him that she had put so much time and thought into its creation. "Me neither," he whispered.

They stood together, only half listening to their fellow townspeople up on the stage, glorying in the sheer euphoria of being so much in love. Perhaps it was amplified by the holiday? Or maybe by the performance of the romantic, 'Romeo and Juliet'... Or the magical chemistry of their connection... In truth, probably a mixture of all three...

Finally her cue approached and she had to tear herself away from him to take her place in the performance. At times barely able to remember her lines, as she could feel his eyes on her, watching her every move - she found herself putting her all into her part, striving to make Sully proud. And when the curtain was drawn at the end and she stood taking bows with the others, reveling in the applause, she could hear his voice above the rest as he yelled and clapped, and whistled his appreciation.

Much like the standing ovation she had received for her lecture in Boston, _his_ approval meant more to her than all the rest. His admiration, alone, made all of the hard work worthwhile.

Then as planned, after the play, they finished their Valentine's Day with a romantic dinner – albeit by candlelight at her desk in the clinic, and a moonlit walk, strolling together around the meadow.

OOOOO

_Love...is an engagement ring, saved up to be given on a day that's special...a day spent alone with the one who is your soul mate, your heart song, your best friend, your future spouse. _

_A special day, indeed. _


End file.
